No lefs belov'd. The Roman Emperor's letters, :
Sent by a conful to me, fhould not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.
Imo. I'll follow, Sir. But first, an't please
the gods,

I'll hide my mafter from the flies, as deep

As thefe poor pickaxes* can dig; and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' ftrew'd his
And on it faid a century of prayers,

[grave,,
Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and figh;
And, leaving fo his fervice, follow you,.
So please you entertain me.

Luc. Ay, good youth,.

And rather father thee than master thee..
My friends,

The boy hath taught us manly duties. Let us
Find out the prettieft dazied plot we can,

And make him with our pikes and partizans
A grave. Come, arm hint. Boy, he is preferr'd
By thee to us, and he fhall be interr'd

As foldiers can. Be chearful, wipe thine eyes:
Some falls are means the happier to arife. [Exeunt.

SCENE VIH.

Changes to Cymbeline's Palace..

Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pifanio.

Cym. Again, and bring me word how 'tis with her. A fever with the absence of her fon;

Madness, of which her life's in danger. Heav'ns!
How deeply you at once do touch.me. Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone! My Queen
Upon a defperate bed, and in a time.

When fearful wars point at me! Her fon gone,
So needful for this prefent. It strikes me paft
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,.
Who needs must know of her departure, and.

* Meaning her fingers. Johnfon.

That is, Take him up in your arms. Hanmer. T

Doft seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
By a harp torture.

Pif. Sir, my life is yours,

I humbly fet it at your will; but, for my mistress, I nothing know where fhe remains; why gones Nor when the purposes return, 'Befeech your High❤. Hold me your loyal fervant.

Lord. Good my Liege,

[nels,,

The day that she was miffing he was here;
1.dare be bound he's true, and shall perform
All parts of his fubjection loyally. For Cloten,,
There wants no diligence in feeking him,
And will no doubt be found.

Cym. The time is troublesome ;

We'll flip you for a season, but our jealousy [To Pif.. Does yet depend.

Lord. So please your Majefty,

The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coaft, with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen, by the Senate fent.

Cym. Now for the counfel of my fon and Queen!-I am amaz'd with matter.

Lord. Good my Liege,

Your preparation can affront* no less

Than what you hear of. Come more, för morę you're ready;

The want is, but to put these powers in motion
That long to move.

Cym. I thank you. Let's withdraw,

And meet the time as it feeks us. We fear not
What can from Italy annoy us, but

We grieve at chances here.- -Away. [Exeunt
Pif I heard no letter from my mafter, fince
I wrote him Imogen was flain. 'Tis ftrange ;:.
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings. Neither know I
What is betid to Cloten, but remain >

Perplex'd in all. The heavens ftill must work.

the

Your forces are able to face fuch an army as we hear enemy will bring against us. Johnjon..

+ I've had no letter. Hanmer.

Wherein I'm false, I'm honest; not true, to be true.
These present wars fhall find I love my country,
Ex'n to the note o' th' King, or I'll fall in them.
All other doubts by time let them be clear'd;
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd.
[Exit.

Changes to the Foreft.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

Guid. The noife is round about us.

Bel. Let us from it.

Aro. What pleafure, Sir, find we in life, to lock

From action and adventure.

Guid. Nay, what hope

Have we in hiding us this way the Romans..

Muft or for Britons flay us, or receive us

For barb'rous and unnatural revolts

During their use, and flay us after.

Bel. Sons,

[it:

We'll higher to the mountains, there fecure us.
To the King's party there's no going; newness
Of Cloten's death, we being not known, nor muster'ɗ :
Among the bands, may drive us to a render+,
Where we have liv'd, and fo extort from us

That which we've done, whofe anfwer would be
Drawn on with torture.

Guid. This is, Sir, a doubt,

In fuch a time, nothing becoming you,

Not fatisfying us.

Are. It is not likely,

[death

That when they hear the Roman horfes neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their
And ears fo cloy'd importantly as now,

eyes

That they will waste their time upon our note,..

To know from whence we are.

Bel Oh, I am known

Of many in the army, many years,

† A render for a confession.

Tho' Cloten then but young, you fee, not wore him
From my remembrance. And, befides, the King
Hath not deferv'd my fervice, nor your loves,
Who find in my exile the want of breeding;
The certainty of this hard life, aye hopeless
To have the courtefy your cradle promis'd;
But to be still hot fummer's tanglings, and
The fhrinking flaves of winter.

Guid. Than be so, Better to cease to be.

Pray, Sir, to the army;
I and my brother are not known; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto fo o'ergrown,
Cannot be queftion'd.

Aro. By this fun that fhines

I'll thither; what thing is it, that I never
Did fee man die, fcarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison
Never beftrid a horfe fave one, that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel,
Nor iron on his heel? I am afham'd
To look upon the holy fun, to have
The benefit of his belt beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guid. By Heav'ns I'll go ;

If you will blefs me, Sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefor due fall on me by
The hands of Romans!

Arv. So fay I, Amen.

Bel. No reafon I, fince of your lives you' fet So flight a valuation, fhould referve

My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys; If in your country wars you chance to die,

That is my bed too, lads; and there I'll ly.

Lead, lead. The time seems long; their blood thinks

fcorn

[Afide

[Exeunts

Till it fly out, and fhew them princes born.

ACT V.

SCENE

I..

A Field between the British and Roman Camps.

Enter Pofthumus, with a bloody handkerchief.

YE

Pofthumus.

WEA, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married

ones,

If each of you would take this courfe, how many
Muft murder wives much better than themselves,.
For wrying but a little? Oh, Pifanio!

Every good fervant does not all commands;
No bond, but to do just ones. -Gods, if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I ne'er
Had liv'd to put on this; fo had you fav'd
The noble Imogen to repent, and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But alack,
You fnatch fome hence for little faults; that's love,
To have them fall no more; you fome permit
To fecond ills with ills, each elder worse,

And make them dread it
But Imogen's your own.

to the doer's thrift. Do your beft wills,..

* The bloody token of Imogen's death, which Pifanio, in the foregoing act, determined to fend. Johnson.

The divinity-fchools have not furnished juster obfervations on the conduct of Providence, than Posthumus gives us here in his private reflections. You Gods, fays he, act in a different manner with your different creatures;

You fnatch fome hence for little faults; that's love,
To have them fall no more.

Others, fays our Poet, you permit to live on, to multiply. and increase in crimes,

And make them dread it, to the doer's thrift.

Here's a relative without an antecedent fubftantive;